Breakfast was ready by the time he reached there. Tad did not mention his experience, not having decided what he would do in this matter.

"You find big smoke?" questioned the Indian as Tad stood over him by the fire.

"Yes," answered the lad carelessly. Anvik shrewdly deduced that Butler had made some sort of discovery, but he asked no further questions. Perhaps the guide also had discovered that they had near neighbors. If so he kept that fact to himself.

The boys sat down to breakfast. They discussed the day's ride and talked of their further journeyings, though Tad had little to say that morning. He was thinking deeply on what had just occurred.

The breakfast was about half finished when the lad flashed a quick, keen glance in the direction from which he had entered the camp. The others did not observe his sharp glance of inquiry. Tad had seen something. A movement of the foliage had attracted his observant eyes. He glanced at Anvik, who was sitting with his back to the party, gazing off over the mountains to the rear of them and through which they had worked their way to the present camping place.

Tad casually reached over for his rifle that was standing against a rock.

"What's up?" demanded Ned sharply.

"I want to examine my gun," replied the boy.

"Funny time to examine it when eating your breakfast," spoke up Walter.

"I prefer to eat," said Stacy.

"We know that," chuckled Ned. "No need for you to tell us."

The Professor was eyeing Tad inquiringly, observing that the boy's face was slightly flushed.

"What is it, Tad?" he asked.

"Nothing, except that I am going to take a pot shot at an intruder," replied the boy calmly, suddenly leveling his rifle on the bushes where he had observed the movement a few moments before.

He pulled the trigger. A deafening crash brought the boys to their feet, yelling. The shot was followed by a shout from the bushes.

"Stop that shooting, you fool!" roared a voice. Tad put down his gun, grinning broadly, the others dancing about excitedly.



"Come out of that or I'll give you something to yell at," commanded the Pony Rider Boy.

Curtis Darwood, his face stern and determined, stepped out into the open and walked straight towards the amazed group now standing near the campfire. The Indian guide was the only person who had not gotten up when Tad Butler sent a bullet into the thicket fully six feet above the head of the gold digger who was spying on the camp.

Darwood was more angry at having been discovered than being shot at. He had heard the bullet rip through the foliage above his head, and knew that the shot had been intended to stir him up rather than to reach him. That the boy whom he had driven from his own camp should have thus turned the tables on him angered him almost beyond his control. Darwood was so angry that he failed to see any humor in the situation.

"It is Mr. Darwood, isn't it?" cried the Professor with face aglow, striding forward with outstretched hand. As in Butler's case, Darwood professed not to see the proffered hand. He looked the Professor squarely in the face.

"Won't you sit down and have a snack with us?" asked Professor Zepplin. "We were eating when Tad fired that shot. That was very careless of you, young man. You might have killed someone."

"I reckon he knew whom he was shooting at," answered the gold digger. "You see, this isn't the first time that young fellow and myself have met."

"Of course not. We all met on the 'Corsair,'" spoke up Rector.

"He and I have met since then," answered Darwood. "I reckon you know all about it. He came spying on our camp this morning just after daylight, and—"

"You know that isn't true," interjected Tad. "Why don't you tell it straight if you are bound to tell it?"

The miner let one hand fall to his holster.

"Up in this country they don't call men liars," answered Darwood, looking Butler coldly in the eyes.

"Then men shouldn't place themselves in a position to be called liars," retorted Tad boldly. "You had better take your hand from your revolver. If you will take the time to glance at the rock to your right you may possibly see something to interest you."

The miner cast a quick glance of inquiry in the direction indicated, and found himself looking into the muzzle of a rifle, laid over the top of the rock. Behind the rifle was Chunky, one eye peering over the sights.

Tad laughed.

"Stacy!" thundered the Professor. "What does this mean?"

"Nothing, Professor," answered Tad. "Chunky got a little excited, that is all. You may put the gun down, Stacy. Mr. Darwood doesn't understand; that's all. Sit down and have a snack with us, as the Professor has asked you to do," urged Butler.

"I don't want to eat with you. You know it. Don't you go to getting me riled or I won't answer for the consequences."

"Neither will I," answered Tad smilingly. "We are easy to get along with unless someone treads on our toes; then it's a different story. Sit down and we will talk this matter over."

Tad threw himself down beside the fire. Stacy still sat behind the rock, gazing suspiciously at their early morning visitor.

"I demand to know the meaning of this scene," said the Professor sternly.

"Let Mr. Darwood tell you," replied Butler.

The gold digger made no answer. Tad turned to the Professor.

"I will tell you what there is to it, sir. Mr. Darwood thinks we are like some others he has met. He thinks we are trying to steal his gold mine," declared Tad in an impressive voice.

Professor Zepplin flushed deeply.



CHAPTER XIX

THE PROFESSOR IN A RAGE

"What!" fairly exploded Professor Zepplin.

"Mr. Darwood accuses us of having followed him to find out where this wonderful gold deposit is located. He thinks we want to steal it away from him."

"Preposterous!"

"Show me some gold," urged Stacy, edging near. "I am looking for gold. I don't make any bones about saying so, either."

"Be silent," commanded the Professor.

"I smelled smoke when I was out this morning," continued Butler. "I followed the scent until I stumbled into Mr. Darwood's camp. It was his signal smokes that we saw yesterday. Mr. Darwood did not give me a very cordial welcome; he ordered me out of his camp. Not only that, but he threatened me in case we persisted in following him. I think he would have used his pistol on me if I had not gone away when I did."

"Is this true, Darwood?" questioned the Professor, who was restraining himself with an effort.

"I reckon it's right, so far as it goes. I know what you fellows are up to. You may think you can fool me, but I've been in these parts too long to be an easy mark. It's nobody's business whether we are in search of gold or whether we are up here for our health. Whatever our business is, we don't propose to have a lot of folks sticking their noses into it."

"What do you propose that we shall do?" asked Professor Zepplin.

"I don't care what you do," roared the gold digger.

"Then there is nothing more to be said."

"Oh, yes there is. There's a lot to be said. I am not going to say it all right here, but I reckon I'll say it in a different way later on. You are following us. Don't deny it. I know you are. You pumped the Captain and everybody else on the boat about us. Then, when you thought you had got all the information you wanted, you followed us."

"It's not true. You know it's a lie!" shouted the Professor.

"Be careful how you nag me on," warned the miner.

"You know you think nothing of the kind. What is it that you reckon to say at some other time?"

"This," answered Darwood, tapping his holster significantly.

Tad laughed softly to himself. This angered the gold digger more than ever.

"You folks get out of these hills! Go anywhere you want to, but get out and get out quick. Some more of my men are coming along to-day. If you are here to-night it will be the worse for you," threatened the miner.

"Which direction would you suggest our taking?" asked Tad in a soothing voice.

"Go back the way you came. I don't care where you go."

"You are not consistent," laughed the freckle-faced boy. "You tell us you don't care where we go, then you order us to proceed in a definite direction. You are going too far, Mr. Darwood. When you have had a chance to cool down I think you will look at this matter in a different light. If you will use your head a little you will see it is not possible that we could have had any previous knowledge of your plans or of your gold mine. You had better make friends with us. We might be of some use to you. Professor Zepplin is a scientist. He could give you valuable help. Shall we call quits and shake hands? Come on."

The words that he would utter seemed to stick in the gold digger's throat. He clutched twice at his holster, but the evident desire on his part to use his pistol appeared to have no effect at all on the Pony Rider outfit. Darwood knew very well that drawing his weapon would practically be the end of himself, and this did not tend to make his situation any better.

"I'll not shake hands with you. I am going back to my camp. If you thieves are here by to-night I promise you there will be something doing. I—"

Professor Zepplin strode forward, his whiskers bristling, his fists clenched. The boys never had seen their guardian so angry.

"That for your threats!" he roared, shaking a fist under the nose of Curtis Darwood. "Your threats don't frighten us. Your pistol doesn't frighten us. We're not that kind."

The miner started to reply.

"Don't you open your mouth or I shall forget myself and slap your face. Thieves!" Professor Zepplin struggled to master his emotions. "Thieves! This is too much. You tell us that if we are here to-night you will make matters lively for us. If it will accommodate you any we will remain right here. But we should be on our way. We are going to follow a straight course as near as possible to the northwest. We shall, with reasonable luck, be about twenty miles from here by eleven o'clock to-night. If that is the direction you are going you will have no difficulty in finding us. But let me warn you, sir, we shall put up with no trifling. We have as good a right to be here as have you, and I am not sure but that we have a better right."

"We'll see about that," retorted Darwood angrily.

"You let us alone! Do you hear? You let us alone! If you are looking for trouble you may have all you want and then some more besides. We are peaceable travelers, but we know from long experience how to take care of ourselves. Have you anything more to say to me?" demanded the Professor.

"I reckon not. I've said my say."

"Then get out before I forget myself and hit you on the nose!" roared Professor Zepplin. "Don't you dare come fooling around our camp again, and thank your lucky stars that Master Tad didn't make a mistake and shoot lower. Are you going, or are you waiting for me to throw you out?" fumed the Professor.

"I reckon I'm going. You'll hear from me again. Next time the shoe will pinch the other foot."

"It will be the foot that kicks you out of camp in that case," answered the Professor.

"Hooray!" howled the fat boy. "Three cheers for Professor Zip-zip!"

"Be silent!" thundered Professor Zepplin.

"Yes, you had better look out or he will take it out of you after Mr. Darwood has gone," warned Tad. "The Professor is all stirred up."

The Professor was. Darwood turned and strode from the camp without trusting himself to utter another word. Professor Zepplin strode back and forth with clenched fists, muttering to himself for five minutes after the departure of their guest.

"He called us thieves!" he exclaimed, halting and glaring angrily at Stacy.

"Well, don't blame me for it," answered the fat boy.

"Professor, calm yourself," begged Tad. "Those men have met with a lot of crookedness. You can't blame them. I shouldn't be surprised if some other person had been trying to follow them since they have been out this time. They probably think we are in league with the others to get ahead of them in the discovery of this treasure."

"I don't believe there is any treasure," raged the Professor.

"As to that, of course, I can't say, but I should think it quite probable that they had something definite. There must be something in what they have to go on. They are not fools, but intelligent men. What is more, they must think they are on the right track or they wouldn't fly off the handle as Darwood has done to-day. What will you do?" asked Tad.

"Do? Do? What do you think I am going to do?"

"Knowing you as I do, I should say you would go on as we have planned," answered Butler laughingly.

"Exactly! If that man thinks he can frighten us out of our course he will find that he has made a grave mistake."

"Why didn't you punch him when you had the chance?" demanded Chunky. "You could have hit him an awful wallop when his chin was in the air that time."

"Stacy! You are a savage!" rebuked the Professor.

"Maybe, maybe," reflected the fat boy. "But judging from some things that have occurred in this camp this morning, I'm not the only savage in the outfit."

The boys laughed uproariously.

"That's one for you, Professor," chuckled Ned.

"Anvik! We break camp at once," fairly snapped the Professor.

"Gold man him heap fool," grunted the Indian.

"No, not that, Anvik. He is gold-mad like all the rest of them," corrected Butler. "I hope I never shall get that way."

"It can't be such bad fun to be gold-mad," argued Stacy, who usually wanted the other side of an argument. "I'd like to try it once, if I could find enough gold to make it interesting."

Camp was hastily broken that morning, for there was much lost time to be made up. Everyone was eager to get started, anxious to find out what would be the outcome of the dispute with the gold diggers.

"We don't know in what direction they're going to move, while they do know our route," said Tad. "So it will be an easy matter for Darwood to watch us as long as he wants to keep us in sight."

At seven o'clock that morning Professor Zepplin gave the word to "mush." This morning the Professor was extremely silent, but there was a grim look to the corners of his mouth.

Exciting experiences lay before them all. The boys felt it in the very air about them. The certainty made them feel buoyant and exhilarated. Surely this wild old Alaska was a great bit of country!

"I don't care how soon somebody starts something," mused Ned. "We have our heavy artillery well on ahead."

As he spoke he gazed smilingly at the tight-jawed Professor, who never looked to better advantage than when in warlike mood.



CHAPTER XX

TAD DISCOVERS SOMETHING

"I don't see our friends," said Ned, an hour later.

"They're not in their camp," answered Tad. "We passed that an hour ago. They have no horses, so they're packing their outfits on their backs."

"Huh! That's one part of the gold-madness that I don't want," said Chunky. "Do all gold diggers have to pack their outfits?"

"I guess few of them can afford to buy ponies," answered Butler. "Then, too, the places they go to are usually beyond the reach of anything except a wild animal. We are fortunate if we get through with our stock. Even our own ponies that we left at home would never be able to make this rough trail. What's that, Anvik?"

The guide was pointing to a waving ribbon of white that appeared to reach from point to point on the rocks high above them and some distance ahead.

"What is it?" demanded the boy.

"Him goat."

"Mountain goats? Look, boys!" cried Tad.

Stacy threw up his rifle and took a shot. Of course he missed. A leaping mountain goat is not an easy mark even for the best shot, and the fat boy, while shooting very well, could hardly be called an expert.

"Those are the animals from which the beautiful blankets are made," the Professor informed them. "Do you know how the Indians get the wool?"

"They pull it out by the roots, I guess," suggested Stacy.

"Hardly," laughed Ned.

"Spring is the shedding time. The goats, in leaping from place to place, leave tufts of wool clinging to rocks and bushes, and this the lazy Indians gather for their blankets, rather than take the trouble to hunt the goats."

"Squaw him get wool," spoke up Anvik.

"Worse yet," laughed Butler. "You are the laziest folks on earth."

"Squaw work, him no talk lies. Him mouth keep shut."

The boys laughed at this crude reasoning of the Indian.

"Did they teach you at the Mission to make your squaws work?" asked Tad Butler.

Anvik shook his head slowly. He did not answer in words, but hastened his pony's pace by his heavy pull at the halter.

All that day the boys kept a lookout for smoke, but in vain. After they had made camp that night the Professor said:

"There are indications here of unusual formations. If you have no objections I should like to remain here for a day, perhaps two, and do research work."

"Right, Professor," replied Tad. "The ponies will be better for a rest, and maybe we can do some hunting. How about it, Anvik?"

"Anvik not care," was the guide's reply.

After breakfast the next morning the Professor set off at once.

"Now, fellows," said Tad, "I propose that Stacy and I follow that ravine to the left and Ned and Walter go to the right. From the formation I should say that some time late in the day we ought to meet. It's wild in those passes, and we should get game."

After arranging that three quick shots should announce the finding of game and that the distress signal of one shot, a pause, then two quick shots should be a call for help, the boys set off, each carrying biscuit, a drinking cup, and matches, besides their rifles.

The boys tramped all morning without sighting game.

After a short rest the two boys went on again, bearing more to the left. As they trudged on the sound of rushing water was borne to their ears. Then they came out on a broad stream, a torrent that came from the top of three lofty, ice-covered mountains.

"Let's work up toward that pass," suggested Tad, wishing to see the gulch from which the stream was flowing.

They had worked their way upstream for half a mile when Chunky yelled:

"Look there! What's that?"

Tad saw a hideous head projecting above the bushes. At first he was startled, then he laughed.

"That's a totem pole, Chunky. They're put up usually in behalf of the Indian dead to drive the spirits away. Let's go and look at it."

The totem pole was standing at the entrance of a second narrow gulch. Sand and shale rock were heaped up at the entrance.

"A stream flowed through here at one time, Stacy. I imagine that it was the same body of water we've just been looking at."

"Yeh," said Stacy absently. "Say, Tad, let's see who can first hit that evil-looking thing with a stone."

Tad laughed and stooped to pick up a stone. As he did so, he noticed an arrow cut into the rock at one side of the gulch, the point of the arrow aimed up the gulch.

"That's queer," muttered the boy. "I suppose it's an Indian sign. This is a place of many mysteries." He stooped to pick up the rusty-looking stone that had caught his glance. It was worn full of holes as if by the action of water and when he took it in his hand its heaviness aroused his curiosity. Opening his knife, he dug into the stone.

Tad's face flushed a vivid red, and he uttered a sharp exclamation.

"What is it?" demanded Stacy.

"Nothing much. Maybe I've made a discovery. Don't let's idle here. Let's go on and see if we can't get our bear. This seems to be our lucky day," said the boy, pocketing the stone and once more shouldering his rifle. "Come, mush, as Anvik would say."



CHAPTER XXI

CONCLUSION

Professor Zepplin had been closeted in his tent for an hour when he beckoned Tad Butler to enter.

"Boy, this rusty stone that you picked up is a gold nugget, worth, I should say, all of five hundred dollars!" cried the Professor excitedly. "Are there more of them, Tad?"

"I can't say. I found this one on a bar where it was probably washed down. The place was once a stream, but it changed its course and is now some distance to the west. I've an idea that there's gold in that sand-bar."

"Then we'd better go after it. It probably belongs to no one."

"I'm not sure of that. Others may have a juster claim than we have, Professor."

"You suspect something, Tad, without knowing fully. We'll look at the place and decide what to do later."

The others were in bed, but still awake when Tad left the Professor's tent, but to their questions he gave evasive answers.

It seemed to Tad that he had been asleep but a few minutes when he felt a touch on his shoulder. He sat up, instantly wide awake. Anvik was bending over him.

"Somebody come," muttered the guide. "One, two, three, four, maybe more."

Day was just breaking. Tad awakened his companions, giving each instructions as to what he was to do. Then he hurried to the Professor's tent to give Anvik's news.

"Look out!" yelled Stacy shrilly.

A series of quick, sharp reports punctured the stillness of the morning. Tad and Professor Zepplin dashed out, and so did Walter Perkins. Ned Rector and Stacy Brown were nowhere to be seen. Anvik stood against a rock, his blanket drawn about him, the muzzle of a rifle protruding from the lower end of it.

Four men appeared in the open, each holding a rifle. The rifles were aimed at the members of the Pony Rider outfit.

"It's Darwood!" gasped the Professor. It was Darwood, accompanied by Sam Dawson, Dill Bruce and Curley Tinker. "What's the meaning of this outrage, gentlemen?" he demanded.

"I gave you warning to mush back to where you came from," answered Darwood.

"And I told you we'd do nothing of the sort!"

"You're going now, and in a hurry!"

"What will you do if we refuse again?"

"You'll find out what we'll do. We're north of fifty-three now. You know what that means. Put down those guns, and do it quick."

"Suppose you set the example," said Tad quietly. He had not spoken up to this point.

"Keep still!" commanded Darwood. "Put down those guns."

"Don't be in a hurry," advised Tad. "Before you do anything that you'll regret, let me say that every man of you is covered. The slightest hostile motion on your part is your death warrant."

"The Indian's got away!" cried Dawson.

Darwood for the first time realized that all the Pony Rider outfit was not in sight.

"Either your friends will put down their guns and come out or we'll shoot," snarled Darwood, fixing his gaze on Tad Butler.

"Are you so anxious to die, Curtis Darwood?" asked the lad calmly.

Darwood flushed, but the four men lowered their rifles to the ground.

"Mr. Darwood, I have something to tell you. Sit down," went on the boy.

"I reckon we'll do nothing of the sort."

"Sit down, I say!"

The men obeyed reluctantly.

"Keep them covered until they come to their senses, boys," directed Tad. Then he went on to the men: "We don't blame you for feeling that every man's hand is against you; but I'm going to prove to you that ours are not. See this?" and Tad tossed to Darwood the rusty stone that he had found in the sand-bar.

"Gold! A nugget of pure gold," breathed Darwood. "Where did you get it?"

"Perhaps we found the Taku Pass."

"And we've lost it," groaned Dawson.

"We'll fight for it, then!" shouted Darwood.

"You might wait until there's need for fighting, Mr. Darwood," said Tad contemptuously. He then went on to describe the totem pole, while his listeners became more and more excited. They got out an old map, and after studying it Tad said:

"It is the Taku Pass that Stacy and I discovered. As it is undoubtedly yours, we relinquish all claim to the land."

"How much do you want for the relinquishment?" asked Dawson.

"Nothing. Sit down and have breakfast with us and then we will lead you to the place."

"I can't say much," said Darwood falteringly. "We've been a bunch of driveling idiots."

After breakfast Anvik was sent to the men's camp for pans and implements and supplies, and the others set off in Tad Butler's wake to explore the gulch.

At one point the party found a slender vein of pure gold, enough to give hope that the vein broadened out farther on. Tad, in a cavelike niche, saw a gray streak of ore that reached for a long distance. A piece of this about the size of a goose egg lay at his feet. It was heavy, and he put it in his pocket to show to the others.

Anvik came in with the tools, surveying chains, and pans, and Darwood and the others staked off their claims, taking in enough to give each boy a claim, putting up heaps of stones to mark the boundaries.

"Of course, if anyone else were to file a prior claim we'd have a hard time to substantiate ours. But there's not much danger."

The claim staked, Darwood proposed that they pan in the bar to see what they could find. To the delight of all, sparkling particles of rich yellow dust lay in the bottoms of the sieves, and they felt convinced that there was gold in paying quantities.

Once more back in the camp, the Professor disappeared into his tent. When he emerged he looked excited.

"Boys!" he shouted. "Tad! Your sample is platinum! Gentlemen, you have indeed a fortune! The platinum is worth about double its weight in gold!"

Such a hurrah as went up! Such an evening of rejoicing and excitement! But early the next morning came the reaction.

Tad, up early, went out to the claim, too impatient to await breakfast. To his amazement instead of finding the markers they had set, he found that they had been removed, and in their places some one had cut off saplings and marked the stumps of them with deep-cut notches.

"It's that rascal, Sandy Ketcham," declared Darwood in a strained voice, when Tad reported his discovery. "He's been on our trail for nearly three years, and now he's got us! He's on his way to Skagway now to register the claim in the land office," the man groaned.

"We'll get ahead of them, then," cried Tad. "He hasn't much of a start. When does a steamer leave Yakutat?"

"This is the twenty-third. The 'Corsair' will leave Yakutat on the twenty-seventh. He will just about make it."

"So will I," cried Tad Butler stoutly.

Tad won Professor Zepplin's consent to his plan, and after Darwood had got the papers ready and the boys had gathered provisions together, Tad was off, riding one pony and leading another, that he might change from one to the other, thus avoiding tiring either.

With lather standing out all over his mount, Tad pounded on, eyes and ears alight for Sandy Ketcham. He halted at noon to change horses and let each drink a little from a spring. Then on once more for seemingly countless hours.

There was a brief pause in the evening, to allow the ponies to rest and graze, then on again in the darkness. The second night a longer rest was imperative, while Tad fretted, tired as he was, to be off again.

On the third day he came across the still hot ashes of a campfire, and decided that he was not far behind Ketcham. Still twenty miles from Yakutat, one of the ponies strained a tendon. The boy was forced regretfully to abandon the animal and to go forward on the second mount.

It was about eleven o'clock in the morning of the fourth day that he caught sight of a column of black smoke through an opening between the mountains.

"It's the 'Corsair,'" he groaned. "She's getting ready to sail."

On and on he rode. He swept through the village on the panting pony and down to the dock to see the 'Corsair' weighing anchor.

Tad Butler set up a yell, then drove his pony into the bay. No small boats were in sight, so, throwing himself in the icy water, he grasped the pony's mane and, swimming with the animal, headed for the ship.

The anchor was up, but Captain Petersen had not yet signaled for slow speed ahead. He ordered a boat lowered and Tad was hauled aboard in a semi-dazed condition. Relieved of its burden, the pony rose and swam for shore. Tad was confined to his cabin, worn out by the hard ride and the icy swim. But he learned that Ketcham was on board, and Ketcham, of course, knew of Tad's presence.

The morning of their arrival at Skagway was gray and windy. The sea was rolling into the harbor in heavy, boisterous swells. The captain announced that he would not put off a boat until the sea subsided, as capsizing was certain in the heavy seas.

Tad, impatient, was standing at the rail when he saw Sandy Ketcham leap over the rail into the sea. The boy did not hesitate. He sprang to the rail and dived as far out as he could, striking a rod or so behind Ketcham. Then began a desperate race. But youth won, and Tad staggered out of the water a few moments ahead of his adversary and ran for the land office, Ketcham close behind him.

"I file the claim to Taku Pass in the name of Curtis Darwood and others," shouted Tad, slapping the oilskin parcel on the desk. "That man's an impostor. He destroyed our markers and erected his own on our claim."

"It's a lie!" yelled Sandy, making a leap for the boy.

There was a furious fight, in which the interested bystanders did not interfere. But at last Tad's fist shot up in a vicious uppercut on the man's chin, and Sandy Ketcham settled to the floor as the boy leaped out of the way.

"Have you filed the papers?" gasped Tad.

"Sure, boy! You've won the first round. The rest will be up to the government, but I guess you've got it clinched for all time."

When Tad returned to Yakutat three government surveyors went with him to run the lines and definitely establish the claim. Sandy Ketcham also filed a claim, but Tad's being the prior one the case would have to be decided by the proper government officials; though there was really no doubt of the outcome.

For a month after Tad Butler's return the Pony Rider Boys stayed at Taku Pass, panning over a section allotted to them by the Gold Diggers, each filling a small sack with yellow dust and a few nuggets. In addition the Gold Diggers insisted that the boys and their tutor jointly should have a twentieth interest in the claims, which would undoubtedly give each a comfortable amount of wealth.

It was their last night in the camp and the boys and the Professor were talking over future plans.

"I'm going home to rest and study after my strenuous life of the last few seasons," the Professor stated. "How about you, Walter?"

"Father has a job for me as messenger in a bank in St. Joseph," answered Walter Perkins.

"Your turn, Chunky. What's it to be?"

"Banking. I'm going into Walter Perkins' father's bank."

"Does father know about it?"

"Of course he does!" retorted Stacy. "Did you think I was going to break into the bank?"

"Can't tell about you," laughed Tad. "As for Ned and me—Professor Zepplin's friend, Colonel Van Zandt, who has large timber interests, has used his influence to get us appointments in the United States Forestry Service. We'll go to work next spring. And now, fellows, I suggest that we give three cheers for the best fellow that ever lived, Professor Zepplin!"

The cheers were given with a will, then all went to their tents for their last night in their camp in Alaska.

THE END